


Views from other windows

by an_aphorism



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Full Consent, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Size Difference, Soft filth, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 11:36:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17724446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_aphorism/pseuds/an_aphorism
Summary: “James, would you like to watch us have sex?”





	Views from other windows

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at this fandom. To be clear this is Sheith, and no one's feelings are hurt. This is 100% feels good lusting and sexy times. Also all my kinks showed up for role call. oops.

James knew exactly how he had gotten here, and it had been purely by accident, by getting _caught._

He had been caught looking— in the meetings, in the cafeteria, and most damning of all— in the training rooms.

Shiro knew better than most how impossible it was not to look, to have known Keith long enough to see him grow from a tempestuous problem-child to fierce leader. The slight back-of-the-class boy to the man leading the charge, running the meetings, organizing the strategies. Keith had disappeared and come back with aliens and robot lions and a teleporting wolf. With shoulders and long hair. With that impossibly slender waist and—

That ass. Fucking hell _that ass._

James wasn’t even sure why Shiro had singled him out when in every room there was a head swiveling to watch Keith walk away. It required more strength than a person had not to. Shiro had to know that. Must know that by the possessive hand he managed to slip around Keith’s waist at every opportunity.

James had seen that hand on more than a few occasions drift lower, cupping Keith’s backside with an unmistakable message: _mine._

It would be foolish to believe Keith was anything other than eye candy. James could read a room well enough. For all of the chemistry he and Keith might have once had, it was nothing compared to him and Shiro.

There was so much it actually made James feel better about the whole thing. He hadn’t just missed his chance with Keith, Keith had found his person. He was happy and in love. James would never stand between two people in love. In all the chaos of war, it was nice to see people in love.

But that didn’t mean James couldn’t appreciate the sight of Keith’s ass as he bent and stretched before his turn on the mat. It didn’t mean James didn’t stake out this exact seat on the sidelines because Keith always stood just there, facing away as he went through his warmup.

 James had his bag on his lap and tablet out for plausible deniability and coverage. The first time when he’d come in and been caught off guard by the hair and the flush of those wind-chafed cheeks as Keith stretched his hamstrings, James had gotten half hard and had to awkwardly navigate an exit without anyone noticing.

He’d had one excellent session in the shower immediately following, but learned to bring something to the next viewing.

So maybe it’s the complacency that gets him caught now. He’s flicking about blindly on his tablet, eyes darting up ever so often to watch Keith move through all the stretches. Today Keith’s wearing an oversized tank top and a pair of skin tight yoga pants. Watching the arch of his back as he comes up out of a deep stretch James can’t believe he almost went to the cafeteria instead.

Every line of Keith is gorgeous, and James covetously tries to memorize it now. Wants to play it back with extreme accuracy later with his hand wrapped around his cock. Wants to squeeze himself imagining that tight ass sliding down onto him, seating itself snug onto his lap. It’s near Pavlovian how he has to lick his lips and swallow the saliva gathered in his mouth.

“Enjoying the view?” Shiro says neutrally, sliding in from nowhere to sit beside him.

James jumps, actually jumps, and nearly drops his tablet. “Captain Shirogane!”

“Couldn’t help but notice your choice of seating,” Shiro goes on, face forward and staring directly in front of them where Keith is doing arm stretches now that lift the tank to deliver slices of his back muscles and belly as he arches and swivels. “Can’t help but notice you frequently choose this place to sit. Got me wondering what was so great about it.”

His point is that the benches on the other side are raised and more centered to the mats, better for viewing the matches. Where they are sitting is the spare equipment and the doors to the locker room. This side fills if it’s a prime match or a busy day, but it would never be anyone’s first choice.

“But I’m starting to understand now,” Shiro says as Keith bounces on his feet to shake himself loose. Even with Shiro’s presence heavy beside him, James eyes can’t help watching Keith’s ass move as he does it.

“Uh,” James says. It’s all he’s got between the pressing fear that he’s about to be murdered, and the unbridled gratitude that at least his last earthly sight will be Keith in _seriously-are-those-painted-on_ yoga pants. “I, uh,” he tries again. “I wasn’t—”

Shiro lets out a long sigh James can’t decipher. He turns his head away from Keith to finally face Shiro. Never let anyone say he did not take his death with dignity.

But Shiro’s face is largely blank. His eyes are still on Keith, but he looks otherwise unaffected. The anger James expected is not present.

“Let’s not pretend this is anything other than exactly what it is, hm?” Shiro turns to look at him, full captain mode. “But now is not the time. Come by my quarters later, say 7?”

The nature of Shiro’s tone has James opening his mouth to agree before he even realizes it. “Of course, sir.”

Shiro’s hand comes down strong on his shoulder and it makes his whole body jolt. Sternness leeches in, like Shiro at the head of the Atlas barking down orders he expects to be followed without question. “Excellent, don’t be late.”

James doesn’t breathe until Shiro disappears back into the locker room. Then, despite Keith moving onto the mat to spar with one of the other paladins, James gathers up his things and flees.

 

#

There is nothing James wants less than to be standing outside the captain’s door at 6:55 that evening, but he is. It wasn’t an order, but it might as well have been for how powerless James is to disregard it.

Putting his best foot forward then, James is showered and sharply dressed, as if the conservative button of his uniform signal that he absolutely would never dream about interfering with Shiro and Keith, and that the whole thing was a misunderstanding, just a little dumb thing James had done once and not indicative of a _pattern of behavior_ that needed punishing.

James doesn’t think Shiro would pull rank about something like this, but he also wouldn’t blame him. James had been caught red-handed strategically ogling his boyfriends’ assets.

The optics aren’t great any way you try to spin it. And James has spent the hours between then and now doing nothing but spin.

There isn’t a way out, it’s only through. He knocks on the door.

To his surprise and mounting shame, Keith answers.

“You’re on time,” Keith drawls. “Come in.”

“Oh, I. Uh, is Captain Shirogane here?”

Keith gives him a look like he’s stupid, so James steps inside. He can’t tell if it’s better or worse that Keith’s here. Would Shiro make his boyfriend an accessory to murder?

As Keith leads them into the living room where Shiro is propped up on the couch with a glass of some amber liquid, James comes to a worse conclusion. Maybe Keith’s the one who will be doing the sentencing.

That makes a lot more sense. Keith’s never needed anyone to stand up for him, even in the occasions that Shiro has. James has seen enough of Keith’s matches through his voyeurism that he does uniquely understand that Keith can kick anyone’s ass he sees fit.

And Keith probably doesn’t have a problem with witnesses or accessories. _Shit._

There’s calculation errors, and then there’s _calculation errors._

“Please sit,” Shiro dictates the couch opposite him as Keith sits down beside his boyfriend.

James tries to keep breathing. He takes a seat.

“Drink?” There’s an empty glass on the coffee table between them, beside the bottle of liquor.

“No, I’m okay.”

Shiro smirks, leaning forward to reach for his own glass. “You sure? I think this’ll all go a little bit smoother for you if you had a drink.”

All James can think of is last calls and last meals, and maybe he shouldn’t meet deaths sweet embrace totally sober. It’s been a second since he had a break in his schedule for something as frivolous as drinking. “Okay. Just a little.”

That appears to be the right answer because Shiro’s expression lifts into something more pleasant and he leans in to pour several fingers into the empty glass. “Keith’s not big on whiskey, so it’s just us tonight.”

Keith huffs, reaching for his own glass which appears to be water. “One of us just has better taste.” Shiro pinches Keith’s thigh and nearly gets a lapful of water when the man jerks, ticklish.

“Easy there,” Shiro says, steading the glass.

“Jerk,” Keith frowns, taking his glass back and putting it on the table. James doesn’t miss the affectionate nudge Keith gives to Shiro’s shoulder.

“Anyway,” Shiro says, pushing James’ glass across the table. “Drink up.”

It’s a sipping liquor, but James take a generous gulp all the same. It’s warm, caustic going down, but not as much as he would expect. It’s expensive liquor. He hopes that means it’s going to get into his bloodstream faster.

“Thanks,” he says when he’s finished nearly half of it.

“So,” Shiro says, “about why you’re here.”

“Look,” James says, cutting in. Part of his prime strategy is to come in swinging with his acknowledgement of what he did, and an appropriate apology. It seems better in some way than being read his rights. “Spying on Keith like that was totally inappropriate and—”

Shiro’s hand goes up, cutting his semi-rehearsed speech off at the legs.

“Not actually that much of an issue.” Shiro says.

“By that he means none,” Keith shrugs. “Shiro’s got a league of admirers and it’s fine. I get it, he’s hot.”

“And so, you checking out Keith in the training room—”

“And the library, the cafeteria, the conference room, let’s be honest you’re _not_ the most subtle,” Keith adds.

James cringes. He knows he hasn’t been the most careful, but yikes. The library was like _one time_.

“Yeah, not an issue.” Shiro goes on. “Keith would have taken care of it if it was. I actually invited you over because we’d been talking and, um.” Shiro now suddenly reticent, scratches at his neck. “See, Keith and I have been together for a little while now and we’ve been working through all the things we wanted to try, and then a few weeks ago Keith mentioned that—”

“Shiro he doesn’t need our whole backstory.”

“I know, but I just thought he might want some context, it might be better to build up to it first.” This Shiro aims at Keith.

Keith’s eyebrows come together for a second. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“What! No! Are you?”

Keith reaches for Shiro’s hand. “No, I would say so if I were.”

“So would I,” Shiro squeezes Keith hand in earnestness.

Keith hold’s his eyes for a second and then nods as if coming to a conclusion. He turns back to James, his face a picture of conviction. “James, would you like to watch us have sex?”

Every thought in James’ head just grinds to a screeching halt. He cannot actually have heard what he just heard, so he must be having some kind of break or fit. Maybe the stress of the meeting has finally got to him. Maybe he’s asleep in his bed and this has all been a vivid and strange dream.

“See this is what I was talking about.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “It’s a simple yes or no question.”

“Baby,” Shiro says gently, “You don’t see you how other people see you. An offer like that can kill a man. Almost killed me.”

Keith snorts. “You’re so lame.”

“Uh huh, and then you had to nurse me back to health.” Shiro leans forward to push James’ glass closer to him. Blindly James’ takes it.

“If that’s a blowjob joke I will dump you right this second,” Keith warns.

Shiro leans over and smacks a kiss on Keith’s cheek. “Love you,” he says.

“Insufferable,” Keith faux-complains.

James dumps the rest of the alcohol into his mouth and swallows. It sizzles all the way down and seems to kick-start his lungs back into processing oxygen. “Can you repeat the question?”

Shiro grins and takes back the glass to add another finger of liquor. “As Keith so ineloquently put it, we’d like to invite you to watch. If that’s something you’re into. We’ve been thinking about uh, a third party, but neither of us are exactly into sharing. So it’s a look-but-don’t-touch sort of thing.”

“And I figured since you’ve been stalking me anyway—”

“I— I wasn’t!” James interjects.

Keith smirks and leans back on the couch. Shiro’s arm shifts to the back of the couch, around Keith. “Uh huh. Your answer?”

“You can also take time to think about it,” Shiro says, squeezing Keith’s shoulder. “Don’t let Keith pressure you into anything. We want it to be fun, not uncomfortable.”

Shiro goes on a bit more trying to reassure him that this is a safe space and that it will not in any way affect their work relationship, but James has mostly tuned it out. Keith’s staring him down, a slant to his lips and fire in his eyes. The warmth of the alcohol spreads out from James’ stomach, erasing every rational argument about how this is a _bad idea._

He can only picture Keith bending over in those leggings from this morning. His brain interjects the idea of Shiro stripping him out of those clothes, bending him over a surface… like maybe the couch and… _Jesus Christ._

It feels like a once in a lifetime chance to get to see Keith like that. And even though Shiro’s always been too far off his radar for a proper crush, James isn’t _fucking blind._ Seeing them together? Well that’s the kind of opportunity people only dream of.

“Okay,” he says, cutting off whatever Shiro is saying. Keith’s grin splits his face, something way too dangerous to look directly at.

“Okay?” Shiro says, he looks surprised.

“Yeah. Yes. I’m in,” James fumbles for his glass and swallows the last of the alcohol.

Keith laughs, low and throaty. “Told ya,” he says, standing up from the couch. “Easier than trapping a Klemstar in a gulstapit.”

James doesn’t get the alien reference, but he knows that it’s probably not flattering. He’d say something sharp back, but he really doesn’t want to upset either of them and miss out on this opportunity.

Shiro, in any case, swats at his boyfriend’s rear before he darts out of range. “Don’t be rude.”

Keith exaggerates his walk, hips swaying and catching both their eyes. He pauses at the door to what James assumes is their bedroom. When he turns back to see both of them watching, he smiles. James really should put down the last of his pride at this point, he is just as easy as Keith says he is.

“Part of my charm,” Keith says, tilting his hip into the frame of the door. “So, do we need to do any more chatting, or can we get to the main event?”

Shiro clears his throat. “Just give us a minute, babe.”

“Don’t keep me waiting,” Keith says, and then disappears behind the bedroom door. James whips his head back to Shiro, still guilty to have been caught looking.

Shiro smiles apologetically. “Keith’s not very patient when it comes to this stuff.”

“He’s not very patient in a lot of areas.”

Shiro laughs, and the sound of it shakes the rest of the tension out of the air. “He tries. Anyway I just wanted to give you an opportunity to ask questions or raise concerns. I know you said yes, but I like to be extra sure.”

James nods, looking down at his empty glass. “So, I’m just watching, that’s easy enough.”

“If at any point it’s not for you, you can also just say stop, or leave if you need to.”

James can’t imagine any reason he would want to walk out of a room where Keith was naked but—

“Uh, can I uh,” he gestures to himself, to his own jeans.

“Oh!” Shiro blushes red across the bridge of his nose, almost hiding the scar there. “Yeah, of course. This is… for both parties. Also, and I probably should have checked earlier if it’s okay with you, I don’t want to put anyone in a situation where they’re going to get hurt.”

Shiro’s tapping at his glass a little nervously. James’ isn’t sure how he could get hurt when they’re not even touching. “Hurt?”

“Emotionally.”

Oh. _Oh._ “No!” James sits up straight. “I mean sure I had a crush a while ago, but it’s not like that now. You guys are great together. That was going to be a part of my apology. I don’t want to get with Keith, what you guys have is, you know, the real thing. I’m just mostly, well, Keith’s hot.”

Shiro lets out a large breath on a laugh. “He is. That’s kinda what I figured, but it’s important to check.”

“Thanks Captain.”

Shiro gets up from his seat and offers a hand to James. “Maybe just Shiro for tonight, hm?” His smile is soft and warm.

James takes his hand and lets Shiro pull him up and lead him toward the bedroom. “Ready then?”

James inhales and exhales and prays that this is not a dream. “Yeah.”

 

#

James has spent more time than he’s willing to admit to thinking about Keith in the bedroom. It does not do justice to the scene they encounter when they enter.

Keith has used the time to strip the bed of the nice comforter and himself of his loungewear. Keith’s now reclined on the bed in just his red briefs, clingy and barely covering his modesty. The light in the room is low, just a corner lamp, and it paints him in gorgeous oranges and shadows.

His hair is still in a braid but loosened somewhat so that shorter strands have slipped out to frame his face and graze his neck.

And James is in Big Trouble.

“Took you long enough,” Keith says, arching just a little to draw attention to his toned stomach, his slender neck. James swallows hard at the pulse of arousal that runs through him.

“Cross the t’s and dot the I’s, I like to be thorough.” Shiro says, leading James right up to the bed. Keith spreads his legs in Shiro’s direction.

“I hope you plan to bring that same commitment to the rest of the evening.” Keith’s ankle slides to Shiro’s thigh, tapping it with his foot.

Shiro’s prosthetic hand closes around Keith’s ankle, rubbing at the smooth skin. “You know I will. Now where do you want James?”

Keith sits up to look the room over. They don’t have any other seating in the room beside the bed. “The bed I think, we want him to have a good view.” When Shiro lets go of his ankle, Keith slides up further toward the headboard. “Sit here,” Keith dictates to the lower half of the bed.

James sits where indicated.

“But feel free to move around if you need to,” Shiro adds. “Now,” he turns his attention to his boyfriend. “You look good.” His hand captures Keith’s foot again.

“I taste better.”

“I bet,” Shiro says, and jerks Keith suddenly by the leg.

It startles a noise out of the man, landing him flat on his back. There’s only about a foot of space between them, so James gets a great view then of Shiro dropping down to kiss his boyfriend.

They start slow, dips of lips, soft kisses one after the other as if getting reacquainted. Keith’s bare legs wind around Shiro’s waist, trying to pull him closer while he’s still standing beside the bed. Instead of giving in, Shiro tightens his hands around Keith’s thighs and holds his lower body up.

Shiro begins to kiss him into the mattress, those gentle kisses sliding into something deeper, hotter, until finally Keith’s lips part.

James can see the moment that Keith’s haughty attitude folds beneath Shiro’s. It’s the same moment his body does. The pulling and tugging stops and Keith melts down, completely receptive of Shiro licking into his mouth, folding his body in half beneath him.

It’s such an obvious outcome, but for some reason none of James’ fantasies ever involved this.

When Shiro eventually pulls away, he leaves Keith on the mattress eye-glazed and dopey smiled. It’s almost too much to look at because it’s nothing like porn, it’s better.

Instead of the biting, snarling thing that Keith is most of the time, here he looks soft and open. He looks unafraid.

Before this moment James never would have said Keith was afraid of anything, but he can see now how much of that is a front. How much Keith uses his prickliness as a shield against the world.

It’s amazing to see him here with someone he can be open with. Amazing to be gifted the opportunity to witness it.

“Shiro,” Keith says, blinking up at his boyfriend undressing.

James shifts his gaze because while Keith is a looker, there’s a lot to be said about watching Shiro pull his shirt off. He’s scarred all over his body, but his muscles are huge, the kind of muscles you only see on magazine covers and don’t really believe are real.

When Shiro steps out of his jeans, James considers whether he signed up for this for the wrong reason.

Because Shiro is… wow. He’s not quite hard in his briefs yet, but James can already tell it’s substantial. If he’d spent a fraction of the time fantasizing about Keith on Shiro, then maybe this wouldn’t be so surprising now. Because everything about Shiro is big. So of course his cock is massive.

James criticizes himself for not spending time considering Shiro. It won’t be a mistake he’ll be making in the future.

“Let’s get you comfortable,” Shiro says as he kicks the jeans away. His hands go to Keith’s waist, to the band of his underwear.

There’s a glance, as if checking that James is watching, and then he slowly drags Keith’s underwear down. It’s like a present getting unwrapped, watching the palest of Keith’s skin get revealed an inch at a time.

His cock when it springs back up is slender and just a little curved.

James has a vivid fantasy of leaning over and licking the dips of his hips, of putting his face right into the thick hair beside Keith’s cock and breathing him in. He would smell amazing.

Underwear tossed, Shiro slides his hands back up Keith’s legs, caressing the inside of his thighs, teasing.

Keith squirms a little in the bed, giving a breathy, wanting sound.

“I know, baby,” Shiro says. His hands stop just short of where Keith wants them. “Now scoot back.”

Keith opens his mouth, looks fit to argue that Shiro was the one that pulled him off-center in the first place, but Shiro has his hands on his own underwear, and no one in their right mind would chose then to pick a fight. Keith complies hurriedly and Shiro drops the last of his clothing.

There’s just no competing with him. James has never been so certain that he never had a shot in any universe.

Shiro’s cock is long and thick between his muscled thighs, and Keith is a lucky, lucky man.

As he climbs up onto the bed, James get an eyeful of his cock, gets to watch it bob and tap at Keith’s thigh. Keith shutters and gasps, hands come up to loop around Shiro’s neck.

It’s no longer advantageous to be sitting upright as Shiro leans down and slots his mouth to Keith’s. Not only is the angle bad, but James’ cock is pressing up against his fly and demanding more space.

Carefully, afraid of breaking the spell between the two men, James leans down to lie on his side.

The sight of their kissing will stay with James for the rest of his life. Keith has his arms around Shiro’s neck and casually crossed, while Shiro has bracketed Keith into the bed. Just as before Keith has softened under diligent kisses, mouth open for Shiro to dip and suck and taste. It’s better this time with all that naked skin on display. James’ eyes follow the curve of Shiro’s bulky shoulders, down the line of his back and to the extraordinary dip right before his ass.

He’s all but pressed into Keith lengthwise, and below him Keith is trying to shift and move his hips as Shiro holds steady.

They kiss for a long time, Shiro moving from his lips to his cheek, his temple, back down to his jaw and throat. It’s a seduction that’s pulling Keith apart bit by bit by the way his whines rise in volume.

“Please,” Keith gasps when, a handful of minutes later, Shiro bites into his collarbone.

“In a hurry love? Don’t you want to show off for our guest?” At this Shiro lifts off Keith a little, head tilted to glance James’ way. Keith gives a loud whine, body flowing up like a wave trying to drag Shiro back down.

He’s flushed and glistening a little from the heat and sweat already accumulating between them. God, he looks good.

Shiro dips his head and licks a line of sweat off Keith’s breastbone. Keith throws his head to the side, his hair a tangle and sticking to his forehead. His eyes are only a sliver open, gazing at James. Keith’s lips are red and swollen, there’s the hint of a hickey on his throat.

James has to force himself to breathe. He fumbles down to undo the button on his jeans because suddenly it’s too tight and he needs some sort of release.

A dark laugh spills out of Shiro and it sparks nerves up the back of James’ neck. There’s something happening here that he doesn’t understand, but his body does. That his body is responding to.

Shiro pushes up off of Keith and resists the hands that immediately come up in protest. “Just a second,” the man says, leaning away from both of them to the bedside dresser. He grabs a bottle of lube and returns, settling this time on the far side of Keith instead of between his legs.

Keith goes to turn toward him, but Shiro’s hand pushes back his shoulder to keep Keith on his back.

“I want him to see everything.”

With that Shiro pops the cap on the lube and pours some into his human hand. Keith fists the sheets and opens his legs further, the right one almost touching James’.

There’s almost too much to watch. Keith is breathing raggedly, tugging at the sheets since he can’t tug on Shiro. Shiro’s prosthetic hand grazes up and down, plucking at Keith’s nipples and just missing his dripping cock.

And then the hand with the lube disappears down between Keith’s thighs. Keith’s face tilts back his way so even though he can’t see what’s happening down below, he knows the moment Shiro’s fingers breach him.

There aren’t really words for it. Keith’s mouth drops open like he’s trying to get air, and the most beautiful sound spills out.

“That’s it, let him hear you.”

James doesn’t even realize he’s palming himself through his jeans until Shiro smirks at him.

“Wanna make yourself more comfortable?”

They’re not touching. They won’t touch, but it still feels like so much more than just watching. There’s something about Shiro here that’s razing the last of his braincells right out of his skull. It’s like Atlas Shiro, but instead of scary it’s just hot. Scorching hot.

James gets his shirt and pants off clumsily, but manages not to bump Keith.

Shiro adds more lubricant and goes back to Keith with two fingers. James’ cock throbs in his underwear, he can feel now without the jeans how wet he is.

But he doesn’t want to touch yet, he’s too close and he wants this to last.

So he watches as Shiro diligently fingers Keith, placating his cries with teasing fingers on each of his nipples, up and down the long lines of his stomach. Shiro traces his lips and then pets at the hair around Keith’s cock.

Keith’s cock bobs and slides across his stomach with every fraught jolt, spilling a delicious looking liquid that leaves sticky trails. He’s fully hard now and rosy red, urgently whining for a hand, a mouth.

But by some unspoken agreement he does not touch himself. His hands stay clawing at the sheets, giving James a perfect view of his whole body as Shiro winds him up. As he pants and begs Shiro to take him.

James presses a palm hard against his cock, licks his lips.

Two fingers later, Shiro finally declares Keith warmed up enough.

“Shiro _please,”_ Keith’s face is blotchy, his eyes glossy. He’s a vision.

“What do you want baby?” Shiro pulls his fingers from between Keith’s legs. There’s an obscene wet noise.

“Fuck me.”

Shiro is smiling, but it’s not his normal one. It’s not a nice one. “You want him to see? Want him to watch you take this cock? Want him to see you cry because it feels so good?”

Before he can answer, Shiro’s prosthetic hand is at Keith’s mouth. Two fingers dip in and automatically Keith begins to suck. His lips are cherry red against the metal, and they look like they know what they’re doing.

James squeezes his cock, trying not to lose it over the thought of those lips around him.

A few seconds later the fingers pull back. “On your knees.”

Although quick to follow direction, Keith is a little clumsy at this point. Shiro gently helps him into position.

Then he’s bent over, ass in the air, and it’s one of James’ most vivid fantasies come to life. Keith is so thin in the waist and thick in his thighs and ass. It makes a shape you just want to sink your teeth into. Or your cock.

“Hm,” Shiro regards the picture, playing with Keith’s cheeks. “How about we show our guest your slutty little hole?” Fingers dip down where James can’t see and Keith gasps. “What was that?”

Keith’s braced on his forearms, but his head is down in the sheets muffling his sounds.

“Do you want James to see before I ruin you?”

Keith mewls into the sheets, but manages a nod.

James’ heart is pounding. He doesn’t know where this side of Shiro is coming from, so far removed from the nice and respectful student, the orderly and mild-mannered captain. This man wields Keith’s body like it knows all its secrets, like he’s in full command of the room, James included.

“Come here,” Shiro orders, his eyes boring into James.

His cock is throbbing, but he manages to shuffle back up. Shiro tilts Keith carefully so they are in no danger of touching, but James can have a look.

And _fuck_ what a look it is. Keith’s hole is glossy and a little pink from being opened up, a dollop of lube sliding down toward his balls. Shiro has his hands on both of Keith’s ass cheeks which he pulls apart.

“Beautiful, isn’t he?” Shiro says, as if they’re discussing something as casual as a painting.

Keith moans into the mattress, his hole clenching on nothing.

“Just a second baby, we’re just looking.”

One of Shiro’s fingers touches his rim, pressing just inside.

James moves away quickly, feeling faint. He lies back down and breathes and breathes and tries not to come.

Keith turns his face out of the mattress to face James. Above them Shiro is adding more lube to his hand and stroking himself.

When Shiro starts to enter him, James keeps his eyes on Keith’s face.

There’s pain, but Keith seems to relish it, pushes back into Shiro’s cock and cries out in yearning.

“You’re so beautiful,” James says, because he can’t help himself. He can’t stare into Keith’s face and watch him take a cock and not think he looks stunning.

“That’s it,” Shiro says. He has one hand on Keith’s hip to guide him back, and one soothing up and down his back. “You feel so good.”

It takes some time for Shiro to bottom out, but at the same time it’s astonishing that Keith can take that much.

As that thought occurs to him, Shiro reaches a hand down to Keith’s belly where—

James almost bites his tongue when Shiro begins to move and— yes that is a belly bulge.

“Can you see it?” Shiro says the next time he presses all the way in.

“Yeah,” James breathes, watching it appear and disappear between Shiro’s hand.

“Takes me so good,” Shiro says. “Don’t you?”

Keith is already a little out of his head, but he nods into the sheets and continues to meet each of Shiro’s thrusts. James can’t decide on whether to watch his expressive face, his dripping cock dangling and crying for friction, or Shiro as he begins to pick up the pace.

First, James decides to ditch the last of his clothing. His underwear are doing little at this point, tented and soaked as they are, so he slips them off. As he does, he doesn’t miss both men looking over to size him up.   

Then he gets a hand on himself. He’s so sensitive, near throbbing in his own hand. It’s hard to think of another time he’s been this turned on, has spent this much time in arousal. His orgasm is heavy already, he can feel it just on the fringes.

So he’s very careful, strokes himself long and slow. Watches the tears smeared on Keith’s face, his cheek grinding into the mattress with the force of Shiro’s thrusts. His eyelashes fluttering and clumping together as he moans and begs for more.

He watches Keith’s knees begin to fail him, sliding the two of them closer and closer to James.  Keith’s cock bobbing hard enough to smack his stomach and leave strings of fluid behind.

He watches Shiro’s fists tighten around that tiny waist to hold his boyfriend in place as the rhythm moves toward punishing. As Shiro’s focus dwindles down to just his cock sliding in and out of Keith, the wet slap of their bodies coming together.

And then just as James thinks they’re about to crest, just as he’s beginning to tighten his own fist around his cock, one of Shiro’s hands move to grab Keith by the hair.

“Up,” he growls, not slowing and pulling at his boyfriends hair. Keith pushes up on his hands automatically, though his coordination is questionable at best. He looks dazed as Shiro hauls him upright onto his knees, hands sliding back to his waist to hold Keith as he continues to fuck up into him. “Want him to see you,” Shiro grunts, “Want him to see you come apart on my cock.”

And they’re almost directly above him now with the movement. He can see all of Keith’s long, beautiful body. He’s kiss-marked and smeared in precum, red from the tip of his cock to the space on his hips where Shiro is holding him tight. Just over his shoulder James can see Shiro, eyes blazing as he bites into the other man’s shoulder.

He can just see the space where they’re joined, Shiro’s cock sleek and wet as it disappears into Keith’s hole.

“I’m cl-close,” Keith breathes, body arching. Little _ah, ah, ah_ noises begin to fall from his lips.

“That’s it,” Shiro hisses, “Come for me baby.” He moves Keith on his cock with single-minded focus. “ _Fuck you’re so gorgeous._ ”

“ _Ta—taka—”_ Is a far as Keith gets before his whole body clenches and a graveled moan tears itself out of his throat.

And no one planned for it, but they’re too close and Keith is crying out, coming just from Shiro’s cock, and it splatters James, some of it dripping right on his own cock that he’s fisting fast and desperate.

It sears his skin everywhere it touches, dragging him right over the edge into a shattering orgasm. He fucks his fist with some of Keith’s come and the orgasm just obliterates him wave after wave, he’s powerless to stop how good it is as he comes all over his own chest.

Above he can hear Shiro talking, spitting dirty talk and affection as he tips into his own orgasm. Keith whines as they wind down, as Shiro carefully pulls out and then settles Keith down onto the bed.

James can barely function, blinking up at the ceiling of their bedroom. He’s covered in come, some that he’s hyper-aware is not his own.

“I’m going to get a washcloth, just a second,” Shiro says.

Neither of them say anything. James wonders if he tilted his head to look if Keith would look just as dumbstruck as he feels.

Shiro comes back and hands James a washcloth and then goes about tending to Keith.

It’s like a dream then, sort of hazy and unpaired to time. James mournfully cleans himself off and then tosses the washcloth down where his ruined clothes are. The other two are talking softly, but it feels too intimate and James doesn’t have a single care in the world about what they’re saying.

The bliss feels full body and so thick he never wants to get up. He technically didn’t have sex, but for how good he feels he might as well have.

“James,” Keith must have been saying his name a few times for the frown that greets him when he turns his head. “You okay?”

“Uh huh.” He sounds punch-drunk.

Shiro laughs.

“I didn’t mean to, uh,” _come on you_ , Keith doesn’t seem to be able to say.

“It’s fine. Really,” James says, because in what universe should one of the hottest people you’ve ever met _apologize for such a thing._

Keith smiles, and it’s still that soft kind. It’s a good look.

“Thanks for… all this,” James says. “Like not only was it mind-bendingly hot, it was just cool. Like a good overall experience.” And he knows now that he’s said it, it’s the absolute truth. It doesn’t feel awkward or weird, he doesn’t feel anything _emotional_ about it.

He just feels sated in his bones.

“Good,” Shiro says. He’s curled up against Keith’s far side, an arm wrapped around his waist. Their fingers are twined together. It’s sweet.

Half an hour later, redressed and with a full glass of water in his belly courtesy of Shiro’s insistence, he says goodbye to them at the door.

Walking back to his room, feeling a little sticky and overall spent, James smiles to himself. He’s glad, for once, to get caught.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Look-- I'm valid, okay!!
> 
> twitter @an_aphorism


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